


render your heart(s)

by decidueye



Series: Render 'Verse [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: BDSM, Cock Warming, Edging, M/M, Multi, Nonbinary Akaashi Keiji, Nonbinary Character, Riding, Skype, Trans Bokuto Koutarou, Trans Male Character, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-12 22:04:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10500366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/decidueye/pseuds/decidueye
Summary: “I’ll let you see Koutarou...” Keiji begins, and the response from both of them is immediately palatable. Kuroo sits up straighter, wetting his lips, and Koutarou inhales deeply through his nose. Keiji hasn’t finished yet, though. “...but you have to earn it first.”Kuroo has been watching Akaashi and Bokuto sleep together for a while, and Akaashi thinks it's time to let him in on another aspect of their relationship.





	

**Author's Note:**

> "write some cock warming," ripley said, "it'll be short and easy and fun," ripley said.
> 
> (well, it was definitely fun. thanks, ripley, for encouraging, enabling and beta-ing for me)
> 
> Bokuto is a trans male in this, and Akaashi is nonbinary/'femme', using they/them pronouns. there's a brief mention of akaashi's hrt - see the end notes for a disclaimer.

“You know what to do.”

The sun has started to set, and an orange beam of light comes through the window of Keiji’s apartment, bouncing off Koutarou’s eyes as he looks up at them, mouth open and eager. They’re three hours into a long evening session, and Koutarou has long since lost sight of himself outside of Keiji’s commands, leaving them feeling calm and capable - exactly as a domme should. Keeping his gaze, they sit down in the chair of their study, guiding his head forward and waiting for him to cover his teeth with his lips before gently easing their soft cock into his mouth.

Keiji slips down in their chair with a low sigh, wetting their lips at the sound of Koutarou’s knees scuffing against the floor as he moves to keep up with them. His tongue bumps gently against the base of their cock as he does so, and Keiji can feel the concentrated effort it takes for him not to suck and play with it. He’s keening, desperate, and a quick, subtle glance downwards shows that his eyes are wet and glazed over, staring, unfocused at a fixed point between Keiji’s legs. Without thinking, they reach down to thread their fingers through Koutarou’s hair, massaging his scalp and closing their eyes at Koutarou’s answering whine. His breath is hot, and even though they’re not hard, they’re dripping wet, and Keiji knows that Koutarou must be struggling to hold onto the spillage pooling in his mouth.

This is the kind of dominance they live for. The harsh passion of getting too carried away with the paddle has its uses - Koutarou’s sensitivity has never failed to push them over the edge, and it was gratifying in a way that nothing else could be, particularly when they were stressed - but the soft assurance of absolute control and devotion sent them much higher, to a place where breathing was achingly, perfectly difficult. Like this, Koutarou is reliable. He needs them, and it becomes a little less daunting that they need him, too.

Still, a full half day of play takes its toll on their stamina, especially when hormone therapy is waging its own war on their erection, and if they want to last the evening, they know they’re going to have to take some time to recover. They don’t want to pull Koutarou out of space, though - there’s too much of a risk of him dropping before they can start again, and there was no better way to rejuvenate themself than in the atmosphere of Koutarou’s loving and complete submission. It washes over them, clearing their mind with each whine and plea of his, and his steady obedience was almost a challenge, making them step up their game.

Leaning forward, they turn on their laptop with their free hand. Koutarou can’t see the screen, and they aren’t sure that he would have the presence of mind to be able to read anyway, so they would be safe if they needed to look something up. They’re still insecure when it comes to showing vulnerability whilst dommeing; even though Koutarou tells them it doesn’t matter, that he knows they’re learning together, Keiji wants him to feel as safe as possible whilst he’s in their care, and they can’t imagine him having the same sense of security if he knew they were sometimes at a loss for what to do.

It isn’t entirely their fault, though - Koutarou is just too distracting. All of their plans fly out of the window the second he shows his belly to them, and before they know it they become caught up in a hazy desire to own, to protect...and to destroy. They shake themself. These thoughts are drifting somewhere far different from the brief rest period they had in mind.

A message pops up before they can open their resource folder. They had forgotten to log out of skype, and Kuroo is as swift as ever at catching them before they can change their status, sending a simple ‘hey’ followed by a new band recommendation. The notification almost makes them jump, they’re so caught up in their thoughts, but Koutarou’s tongue keeps them anchored, warming their cock. Their fingers tighten their grip on his scalp when he swallows with difficulty around them.

“Careful,” they murmur, opening the chat window. It hasn’t been that long since they last spoke, but they hear Koutarou let out a soft sob of relief on hearing the sound of their voice. “I didn’t say you could play.”

Koutarou doesn’t reply. He’s learned not to, now; knows that doing so would distract him from the task at hand and would result in punishment. Keiji watches his fists clench and unclench, and notes with satisfaction that he’s strengthening his resolve. He’d been bratty earlier, and Keiji had made it clear that they wouldn’t tolerate that for long - they enjoy the chase, but today was about relaxation for them both. They remove their hand from his head so that they can type out a response, feeling Koutarou’s mouth turn down at the loss of attention.  _ Good, _ they think.  _ He can stew in it _ .

[hello] Keiji types. [thanks for the rec. i’ll listen to them later]

[What you doing now? ] Kuroo’s messaging style is like Koutarou’s with better spelling: peppered with emojis that have little to do with what’s actually being said.

[playing with koutarou]

[Vball??? Not like you to slack off on the court, Akaashi. Put that phone away!]

[it’s not that kind of game]

There’s a long pause, and Keiji watches the pencil at the bottom of the screen move and cross itself out three times before disappearing altogether, considering. Kuroo has been aware of their experimentation with BDSM even before he started getting himself off whilst the two of them had sex. Koutarou can’t keep a secret to save his life, especially not from his best friend and roommate. The three of them had never discussed it in detail, though - the furthest they’d come to it is some bad-mannered teasing from Kuroo, and Keiji’s successful attempts to get him flustered during their ‘friend-with-benefits’ sessions.

[Has he called you mommy yet?] 

Keiji huffs out a laugh. So he’s decided to make a joke of it. 

They talk for a little while longer, trading barbs and dancing around the subject, giving Keiji something to focus on that allows them to breathe. Below them, Koutarou quiets, and Keiji knows that he has settled into the task now, and that he would sit there with Keiji’s cock in his mouth for as long as they let him, even if he starved and suffocated.

Keiji loves him, though, and they’d never do that to him in a million years. He’s theirs to care for.

[do you want to call?] Keiji sends the message without allowing themself to hesitate, knowing that they couldn’t leave time for insecurity to set in. Kuroo’s reply is instantaneous.

[???]

[you can read]

They wait, and the pencil at the bottom of the screen resumes its dance. Keiji pictures Kuroo, flushing and flustered as he tries to compose a reply, and even though they definitely had the advantage here they allow themself the victory.

[Are you still… ??] Keiji snorts.

[yes]

[And you want ?]

[yes]

There’s another pause, and Keiji’s getting impatient now, tapping their fingers against the hardwood of the desk. Sensing their discomfort, Koutarou shifts on his knees, and Keiji stops fidgeting immediately, regulating their breathing.

[Are both of you asking?]

Keiji has to admire Kuroo’s tact, always present but seldom actually used. He wants to know if Koutarou’s aware of what they’re asking. He’s not, of course - right now, Keiji could be planning their wedding and Koutarou would be oblivious - but they know that he’s more than willing.

[we’ve discussed it before. if you’re uncomfortable, though, there’s no pressure]

[...]

[it’s not a trick, kuroo. i mean it]

Keiji wouldn’t want to goad anyone into playing with them, not even Kuroo. As much as they and Koutarou have talked about it, getting each other off to the image of Kuroo watching them, submitting to Keiji and forcing Koutarou deeper, they know it isn’t something to take lightly. It’s a much more intimate part of their relationship, an insight into their need that they prefer to keep secret, and once they’ve shared it there won’t be any going back. Besides, entering the scene unprepared can be disastrous, and they care about Kuroo too much - more than they would care to admit - to run the risk of harming their current relationship...or the arrangement that went with it.

[OK]

Keiji smiles, tucking their fingers under Koutarou’s chin to get his attention. His eyes drift upwards, meeting Keiji’s with difficulty, and he gives them a questioning hum, the vibrations sending a thrill through Keiji’s spine.

“We’re going to do something different now, baby,” they say, keeping their tone soft and slow, giving time to let the words sink in. “I need you to be good, like you always are. For a little while, the attention’s not going to be on you. But that’s only so that I can show you off, alright?”

It takes a long moment for Koutarou to comprehend what they’re saying, and his brow goes from furrowed in confusion to rising up his brow, surprised and excited. The whole time he keeps his jaw steady and his tongue loose, and Keiji can’t help but smile. He’s so perfect. Koutarou taps his knee once in affirmation to avoid nodding, and that’s all of the assurance Keiji needs. They hit call.

When Kuroo’s face appears on the screen after two rings, Keiji immediately notes that he’s already stressed. His hair is more mussed than usual, and there’s a deep rose flush across his cheekbones. He opens his mouth twice to speak before finally uttering a weak, “Hey.”

Keiji smiles. They’re not embarrassed; they aren’t even nervous. Koutarou is at their feet, supporting them and submitting them, and nothing can possibly go wrong while they’re in control.

“Hello, Kuroo.” They forgo the usual honorific, and Kuroo’s eyes widen slightly as he shifts in his seat. In the corner of the screen, they can see their own face. It’s nothing obscene, but their hair is tousled and damp with sweat, their lower lip red from being bitten, and the calm arousal they’re experiencing is evident in their blown pupils. Kuroo takes them in slowly, inhaling through his nose, and Keiji feels another spike of satisfaction.

“Where’s... ?” Kuroo tails off, scanning the screen, and Keiji raises an eyebrow. He’s going to have to learn to speak up if he wants to do this.

“Where’s Koutarou? He’s preoccupied.” Keiji glances downward pointedly, giving Kuroo all the information he needs to know. Kuroo fidgets, and Keiji can tell that he’s itching to see, though they’re not sure yet if it’s out of curiosity or arousal.

“What’s he, uh… What’s he doing?” Kuroo asks, and Keiji’s pretty sure that he’s sitting on his hands.

“Smooth, Kuroo. He’s keeping me warm. Do you want me to show you?”

“Ah…” Kuroo hesitates. There’s that pride of his. “Don’t you? That’s why you called me, isn’t it?”

Keiji shrugs. Beneath them, Koutarou is staring up at them, gaze intense as he waits to see what his domme will do next.

“There are a lot of things that we could do for my entertainment. Not all of them involve you getting a peek at my pet.”

Koutarou sighs at the word, and Keiji wonders if it’s audible through the laptop, or if Kuroo would even notice if it was; he sputters, flush deepening, and he looks like he’s caught between a gasp and laughter.

Koutarou had reacted similarly, the first time they called him it. They’d been embarrassed enough as it was, using the term on an impulse halfway through fucking him and then freezing, wondering if it was too much. Afterwards, Koutarou had teased them, waiting until they were crimson from shame to admit that he liked it, and if he hadn’t been so surprised it might have pushed him over the edge.

Keiji waits to see if Kuroo is going to comment, but he seems to bite his tongue on the joke, gaze far off and considering, before he nods. Kuroo is always confusing them, and in this state it makes them crave his submission even more. He didn’t take the challenge like they were expecting him to, but Keiji knows far better than to think that this means he’s going to give in so easily.

“Alright…” Kuroo says slowly, taking the time to find his bearings. “Then what?”

“I want to know why you answered. What do you want from this?”

“There are a lot of things…” Kuroo begins to parrot Keiji’s earlier words, but their intense gaze cuts him off. They’ve had a lot of practice cultivating this, learning to stop Koutarou’s rambling with a single look, halting him before he can go too far down the rabbit hole. It’s gratifying to learn that it can work on Kuroo, too - though perhaps only in this specific situation.

Koutarou swallows beneath them. His mouth is so warm, and Keiji can feel their cock getting wetter, beginning to swell inside his mouth. It’s going to take a while, though.

“You  _ know, _ ” Kuroo says now, frustrated and almost petulant. It’s flattering on him. “You know why, so why are you being an asshole about it?”

Keiji huffs, a soft laugh escaping from the corner of their mouth, and Kuroo scowls.

“I’m not gonna be your - whatever.”

“That’s fine,” Keiji responds, tone even, cherishing Kuroo’s look of surprise. “You know I’d never make you do anything you don’t want to do, and if you don’t ask for something, I’m not going to force it on you. I know that you’ve always pictured yourself over Koutarou.”

“Oh?” The challenging edge hasn’t left Kuroo’s voice. Keiji grabs Koutarou’s head, massaging the scalp firmly, and they know for sure that Kuroo hears his resulting moan this time by the way his eyes flicker downwards, towards the bottom of the screen. Keiji lets their eyelids close, enjoying the soft vibrations around their cock for a moment before watching Kuroo again.

“Those are the sounds you love to hear, aren’t they? I’ve seen you when we fuck, and I’m not fooled when you ask us questions about play because you’re ‘curious’. You want my boy to service you like he does me, don’t you? To take your dick until his throat is raw and he cries, because he’s so grateful that you’re giving it to him.” 

Koutarou shifts, moaning again, and Keiji’s fingers on his scalp turn harsh, pulling at his hair to keep him still. The moan cuts off with a light yelp, and Keiji tuts, shaking their head.

“I didn’t give you permission to do anything else,” they warn him, barely noticing Kuroo watching them with startled eyes. “You can’t pleasure yourself - or me - until I say so, alright? No matter how much you want it.”

Koutarou whimpers and then nods pitifully, and Keiji looks back at the laptop to see Kuroo leaning forward in his chair. His lips are moist and his gaze intense.

“Can I-?” he begins, and then stops, clamping down firmly when he realises he’s playing right into Keiji’s game. Keiji laughs, feeling Koutarou melt at the sound.

“I told you I’m not going to force anything on you that you haven’t asked for. I’m not going to give you anything, either. You have to earn it, and you have to ask nicely.”

Kuroo scowls, and Keiji continues, musing. They’ve got him now, it’s only a matter of time and patience. This is the perfect way to ease him into it, to keep him comfortable whilst still retaining control. 

“I have wondered where you put me in those dirty fantasies of yours, though… Do you expect me to submit to you too? To hold Koutarou down and ride your cock like a good girl? Possibly...but I know you must have thought about me as a domme. After all, that’s all you’ve seen. Have you wondered whether I could make both of you submit? Do you think I’d have the stamina?”

Kuroo is staring, mouth open, and Keiji watches him work to form a response. Keiji wishes they were there with him; the video call isn’t high quality enough to pick up the dryness of his breaths, or the thickness in his swallow when his throat bobs. It’s enough confirmation that he has thought about it, though, and so Keiji reaches for the glass of water on their desk, taking a long sip before speaking again.

“I’ve certainly thought about it.” They meet his eyes carefully, wetting their lips in a smooth, deliberate motion. It’s been a long time since they’ve had to work at seduction. “You’re not as big as Koutarou, so it’s not much of a physical challenge...but I do like the idea of breaking you down.”

Kuroo jerks, making a strangled noise that Keiji thinks is supposed to be a scoff, but it comes across more needy than that, a whine covered by Kuroo’s sarcasm and humour.

“You don’t think I could do it?” they ask. “I’m good at this, Kuroo, we’ve been playing for a long time now. I know exactly how to get you break - and even better, how to make you  _ want  _ it.”

“Akaashi…”

“I know, I know. You already want it. Or you think you do. But you don’t know what real want is like, Kuroo. You haven’t felt it so bad that you can hardly breathe, and you haven’t begged me for anything. You will, though, eventually. We both want this to end up there.”

“ _ Akaashi,”  _ Kuroo’s voice comes out angry and breathless, but Keiji has heard this before, on days when Koutarou has been more difficult to dismantle. They’re unaffected, their insecurity calmed by Koutarou’s perfect and desperate stillness, the thickness of his tongue around their head.

“Tell me to stop,” Keiji says, and then they wait. Kuroo blinks at them, speechless, tongue moving to his teeth to form the word, and then he glares. “If you tell me, I will. I promise. Or, well, you know the basic safewords, right?”

Kuroo rolls his eyes. “Red and yellow, yeah,” he says, as if it’s a cliche, but they’re used for a reason.

“Good. Move your camera down.” 

Kuroo starts at the demand, nose crinkling and mouth stretching in the guilty way it does when Keiji’s caught he and Koutarou in the middle of a prank. Keiji waits to see if he’ll do it, sighing disappointedly when he doesn’t move immediately. “I’m not going to be lenient forever, Kuroo. I’m asking nicely.”

Keiji holds their breath when Kuroo’s hand makes its way towards the screen, and they see him push his chair back as he tilts his laptop to give a more full view of his body. He’s blushing, refusing to look at the camera, but Keiji barely manages to relish in his humiliation, too busy taking in the rest of Kuroo on their screen. His boxer shorts are damp and bulging, pants discarded around his ankles, and he hasn’t even bothered - or maybe didn’t have the presence of mind - to pull his other hand fully out of the waistband. He’s beautiful, Keiji thinks, and then moves on from the thought before they can dwell on it; that’s a little too emotional, as they are often prone to get when in domme space.

What was left of Kuroo’s pretense dissipates instantly. His chest heaves, bristling defensively and flushing all the way to his neck.

“This is what you were aiming for, wasn’t it? Fuck, all those things you were saying… Akaashi, you’re the devil.”

Keiji isn’t sure exactly what Kuroo thinks they’re accusing him of, but they want to put his mind at ease, even though his discomfort - the kind that they know Kuroo’s going to remember the next time he’s alone in bed - sends a thrill up their spine. They smile, drinking him in and allowing their desire to enter eyes. The tension eases from his shoulders, just as Keiji expected it to. Keiji has gotten better at predicting Kuroo’s reactions since they’ve begun spending more time together, just as Kuroo has learned to read the subtle changes in Keiji’s expressions.“I just want you to share, Kuroo. It’s not fair to keep such a gorgeous sight to yourself.”

“You’re one to talk.” Keiji knows that he’s talking about Koutarou, who’s growing more restless and desperate by the minute, eyes practically rolling into the back of his head as he tries to glimpse the source of Kuroo’s voice. It’s hotter than they’d ever pictured it, but it sets off a twinge of something else in them, an insecurity they haven’t felt in a long time, not since long before they’d decided to invite Kuroo to watch them fuck.

No, that’s not it, Keiji realises. They’re comfortable with Kuroo, and they want to see him get off just as much as Koutarou does. But they also want to show him who Koutarou belongs to, and who Kuroo could belong to, too, if he was brave enough to take the next step.

Kuroo’s hand has started to slip back inside his boxers. Keiji holds up a finger, and even though they haven’t said anything, Kuroo stops by himself, watching carefully. He wants to play along, Keiji thinks, even if it’s just out of curiosity.

“I’ll let you see Koutarou...” Keiji begins, and the response from both of them is immediately palatable. Kuroo sits up straighter, wetting his lips, and Koutarou inhales deeply through his nose. Keiji hasn’t finished yet, though. “...but you have to earn it first.”

“How?” Kuroo asks, and there’s an edge of impatience, rather than an eagerness to obey in his tone. They have to lure Kuroo in, Keiji notes, before he can be properly tamed.

“You’re going to follow my instructions,” they say, and Kuroo narrows his eyes. “Don’t worry, it’s simple enough. I’ll help you jerk off, and I want you to put on a show for me - but you have to stop when I say so. And you can’t come,” they cast a warning glance at Koutarou. “Either of you.”

“So I just...what, act out your personal porn movie?” 

Keiji snorts. “Something like that. If you’re a good boy and respond quickly enough, then I’ll let you have your prize.”

Kuroo mouths the words ‘good boy’ at the screen, lips and tongue moving over the syllables as though equally mocking and entranced. Keiji understands - it seems ridiculous that such cliched language can be arousing.

“Alright,” Kuroo concedes, and Keiji can tell that the majority of his nonchalance is faked. “I’ll play along.”

“Of course you will,” Keiji says, and then tuts when Kuroo puts his hand back into his boxers. “Don’t spoil my view. Those have to come off.”

The material slides down easily as Kuroo shifts on the chair to discard his boxers, and his cock is as good as Keiji remembers it. He’s already hard, and the head is red underneath the foreskin, which Kuroo is already pulling back, showing off and rubbing himself with his thumb. He’s not as wet as Keiji always is - they forget, sometimes, that it’s not something men tend to experience - but the shine they see as he moans is thrilling.

“So eager…” Keiji crows, and Kuroo pants out a laugh, somehow more comfortable now that he’s exposed. Maybe it feels more familiar to him, even though he’s never had Keiji’s full attention on him before. “Slow down, honey. You’re following my rhythm, remember?”

There’s something soft about the nickname, condescending as it is, and Kuroo’s eyes go hazy, doing as he’s told.

“You’re gonna...drag this out for me, aren’t you…?” Kuroo says, voice more breathless now that he’s allowed to pleasure himself. Keiji laughs.

“Of course. Koutarou’s my most treasured possession, after all. I’m not going to let you see him so easily.

“So miserly…” Kuroo cuts off his own admonishment with a groan, rocking his hips to rub his balls against the chair. Keiji shivers, and more of their wetness pools in Koutarou’s mouth, his moan joining Kuroo’s.

God, they love that sound, and they love knowing that they caused it even more.

“Maybe if I add you to my collection, I’ll be more willing to share… I’m much more generous when it comes to what’s mine - if it behaves.”

“Oh, hn, yeah?” Kuroo’s eyes close for a second, and Keiji can see him forcing them open, determined to look at Keiji’s face. They decide to reward him, just a little, for his commitment, unbuttoning their blouse and letting it hang open over their chest, the curve of their breasts and bitten bruises beneath their ribcage just visible. Kuroo bites his lip, pupils dilating, and Keiji smiles, as sweetly as they can muster.

“Of course. Good behaviour merits good rewards. You’d have to service me properly, though, if you wanted to touch him. You can pick up the pace now.”

The instruction comes casually, like an afterthought, but Keiji had planned the timing carefully, and Kuroo obeys easily, too caught up in picturing the scene they had set for him to focus that much on their command. He’s panting, mouth parted ever so slightly, and Keiji fixes their gaze on the pink slip of tongue they can see before looking lower, at the firm, greedy grip Kuroo has on his cock.

“That’s it,” Keiji speaks reassuringly, their own hips moving slightly in response to what they’re seeing. Koutarou notices, looking up at them questioningly, ready and eager to take action, but Keiji stops him with a subtle shake of the head. Kuroo is their focus right now; for once, the attention is on him.

“Fuck, Akaashi, you’re - something else, god, that mouth of yours…makes me so...”

Kuroo’s breaths are coming shorter, catching in the back of his throat in soft growls, and Keiji knows he’s close. They can’t push him too far - he’s new, after all, still reluctant to admit what Keiji’s commanding tone is doing to him, and it isn’t good practice for them to begin a session on a punishment.

“Stop,” they say, keeping their command to the point. Kuroo’s eyes shoot up from their chest to their eyes, but he takes a few extra seconds to stop, shivering as he gives his cock a few more long, languid strokes. Keiji shakes their head, sighing.

“That’s no good,” they say, teasing, “I thought you wanted to see Koutarou?”

“I -” Kuroo says, taking a moment to gather his breath and catch up with what Keiji is saying. He frowns, “But -”

“Remember who’s in charge, Kuroo,” they say, voice firm and dark, the arousal low in their throat. Beneath them, Koutarou closes his eyes, shivering. “Show me how much you want it.”

Kuroo stares. He takes a few more careful, deep breaths, the flush on his face revealing his humiliation, and then nods.

“Alright,” he says, lifting his hands off his cock, palms to the camera. Keiji can see the bead of precome gathering around the head, already swollen and rose red, and they bite down on the inside of their cheek to stifle their groan of want.

It’s selfish of them, really, to keep this sight from Koutarou. Then again, when they’re like this, they can be selfish and giving at the same time. Knowing that he’s being kept from something will only increase Koutarou’s enjoyment.

Keiji nods their approval. “Good. Try again,” they say, indicating for Kuroo to start again. Kuroo chooses to go slowly this time, eyes lidded and teeth pressing hard on his lower lip as he drags his hand seductively over his length. Keiji breathes in, and out, and in again.

“Don’t want to come until I’ve won, right…?” he says breathlessly, and there’s a glimmer of the Kuroo that teases Keiji over coffee in his eyes, smile lopsided and humble in that odd, mocking-yet-earnest way that is uniquely  _ him _ . Keiji laughs, warm and aroused, and they can feel that both Kuroo and Koutarou are savouring the sound. Kuroo’s hand has sped up in spite of himself again, and his hips are rocking against the leather of his desk chair.

“Right,” Keiji tells him, amused. “I wouldn’t want to be so cruel as to deprive Koutarou of that sight, anyway.”

Kuroo’s answering laugh is hidden by his moan, eyes closing fully now, and Keiji can’t wait much longer.

“Stop,” they say again, and this time, Kuroo halts mid stroke, groaning painfully as his eyes squint back open. Keiji smiles at him, and Kuroo coughs.

“You’re a fucking asshole.”

“We’re going to have to find a way to clean that mouth of yours, Kuroo,” Keiji says, letting the insult slide. “Well done, though. I saw how hard that was for you…were you trying to impress me?”

“...Trying to get what I want,” Kuroo retorts, but his hips twitch as he speaks, cock bouncing, and Keiji isn’t fooled. He’s doing pretty well - well enough to make Keiji think that he’s tried edging before, which is a distraction - but Keiji knows how needy he is.

“Alright,” they say, stroking a hand through Koutarou’s hair and resting it on the nape of his neck, a gentle warning that he’s going to receive attention soon. Koutarou shivers gratefully, not pulling his mouth away but tilting his head back so that his neck presses further into their hand. They look down at him, but he hasn’t searched out their gaze yet, staring hazily at the base of their cock as he sucks loosely. Keiji can’t help but feel their edges soften as they look at him, the pressure of managing two people - and one beginner - at once releasing when they feel his unshakeable faith in them.

“You know who’s on the camera, right?” Keiji says, doing basic checks. Koutarou hums once, confirming, and his voice sounds high pitched and far away. Out of the corner of their eye Keiji sees Kuroo clamp down on his cock, squeezing the base as his breath hitches. “I’m going to show you off, now. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Showing Kuroo what a good whore you can be for me?”

There’s something about that language that goes straight to Koutarou’s clit, and he shudders, humming again. Keiji had found it distasteful at first, but Koutarou’s reactions had been more than enough to get them on board, and now it was second nature to them, although they’d never use it outside of play. They still soften every blow with praise, though, and Keiji isn’t sure if that’s for Koutarou’s benefit or their own.

“Good. I’m doing it now,” they say, looking back up at the laptop screen and slowly pushing it backwards on the desk, positioning the camera so that Koutarou’s head and upper back comes into view, bent diligently over Keiji’s cock, their legs spread around him, feet resting on his thighs. Kuroo takes a slow, shaking breath, closing his eyes for a second and then looking again, drinking it in. “Come on, darling,” they mutter to Koutarou, using the palm of their hand against his cheek to guide him into moving slowly as they turn the chair, allowing Kuroo to see them in profile.

Their attention is on Koutarou, now, knowing that he’s going to be withdrawing from his head a little as he has to perform for Kuroo and not wanting him to move too fast. Kuroo’s hissing exhale registers in the back of their mind as they look Koutarou over, wiping the sweat from his forehead with their thumb. He’s glowing, water building at the corner of his eyes and drool beneath his chin that he doesn’t bother to catch when it drips onto the floor, too absorbed in keeping Keiji inside his mouth.

“Well done, baby,” they say, tilting his chin up. Koutarou’s mouth opens, and Keiji’s cock slides out, moving against his chin and leaving a slick trail of precome. It’s filthy, and gorgeous, and Keiji can’t help their moan, followed shortly after by Kuroo’s. “You did a good job.”

Koutarou beams, wide and silly, making saliva and precome spill out of the corner of his mouth. He blinks up at Keiji, not even casting a glance towards Kuroo; he knows he can’t, not without permission. When Keiji pats their lap Koutarou scrambles into it like a puppy, wincing and hiding his face in their chest when the feeling starts to return to his legs. Keiji starts to rub them absently, and Koutarou sighs into their clavicle, relaxing.

“You can look,” Keiji says, helping Koutarou stabilise his position on their lap, spreading out his weight so it’s not too much for them to bear. Over Koutarou’s shoulder, Keiji can see Kuroo watching them both avidly, knowing that his attention must be fixed on Koutarou’s blissed-out state.

It’s like nothing else, and Keiji still hasn’t gotten used to seeing Koutarou like this; one cross-eyed, hazy look from him is enough to send them straight into domme-space. Through Kuroo’s eyes, Keiji gets to experience it for the first time again, and their shiver passes straight on to Koutarou, making him grip their shoulder tightly as he stares, absent, at the laptop screen. One of his eyelids is drooping, the way it does when he loses focus on anything but his thoughts, and Keiji knows it’s ridiculous but they can’t think of anything sexier, and they’re sure Kuroo feels the same.

“Wow,” Kuroo breathes. Koutarou swallows with difficulty, staring, but doesn’t say anything. “Is he okay?”

Keiji nudges him, one hand gripping his hip reassuringly. “Say hello.”

That’s all it takes. At once, Koutarou is babbling, mouth stumbling over the syllables so much that it takes him a few tries to become intelligible.

“I...ah...it’s good, oh, Akaashi-san, he’s here, and I’m - can I please him, please, can I show him, I want to make you happy, make you - help you get him, can I, can I, I’m so  _ hot,  _ so wet, I want to come, please - Akaashi-san, Kuroo, let me make you happy, let me make you happy like me…”

Keiji closes their eyes, enjoying the sounds of his pleas and the feel of his wetness on their thigh, and when they open them again Kuroo’s mouth is open, gaping, and his eyes are darker than Keiji’s ever seen them. He barely seems to be aware of his own grip on his cock, which looks as though it’s getting firmer by the second. Keiji waits to see if he’s going to speak, but he looks back towards Keiji in deference, letting them set the pace.

“Here’s your reward, Kuroo,” they begin. Kuroo’s name without the honorific had tasted strange at first, but now it feels comfortable and almost too familiar to be diminutive. They test the idea of ‘Tetsu-chan’ in their mind and it makes their stomach tense, making a note to save that for their next session. 

They’re almost certain, now, that there will be another session. Keiji knows exactly how hard it is to get the image of Koutarou begging for you out of your mind.

“You get to decide what you’d like Koutarou to do for you, to help you finish. He’s going to perform for you.” Kuroo opens his mouth immediately to speak as Koutarou squirms on their lap, but they continue. “There’s a condition.”

“Of course,” Kuroo says, voice tight and laughing. “Hit me.”

“You can’t ask Koutarou or I to get off. Koutarou’s place is always last; he can’t get off until I’m done, and I don’t think you’ve earned the right to see my orgasm yet,” they state simply, and Koutarou tucks his head into their shoulder, mouthing at it and whimpering as Kuroo gapes.

“Wh-?” he asks, and Keiji smiles.

“Don’t forget that I’ve seen you, Kuroo. I’ve seen your face when I orgasm - it’s even helped me a few times. You love it, don’t you? You always look so pretty and desperate.”

Kuroo’s mouth clamps shut, blushing furiously, and Koutarou laughs, high pitched and slightly hysterical, into Keiji’s neck.

“Alright,” Kuroo says after a moment, pouting. “I want Bokuto to ride you.”

Koutarou’s head snaps up immediately, and Keiji tightens their hold on his hip, keeping him grounded.

“That’s against the rules. He’s too far gone; he’d come immediately.”

“Just him?” Kuroo snorts. Keiji wants to frown, but they can’t bring themself to disapprove. This is exactly why they’d wanted to bring Kuroo in on their play; exactly how they’d imagined trying to reign him in. Kuroo is fragile, but he has an attitude, and that he’s not scared to bring it into the scene shows that he’s getting comfortable, thrilling Keiji deep in their gut.

“I wouldn’t…” Koutarou mumbles, barely audible from where he’s tucked into Keiji. They nudge him, urging him to speak up, and he starts twisting on their lap, sending jolts of sharp pain and pleasure to their cock with each movement.

“Ah - Kou-” they don’t have time to reprimand him before he’s babbling again, torn between appealing to Keiji or Kuroo, his head moving rapidly to look between them.

“I wouldn’t come right away, please, no, I can do it - I’m strong enough, I’m good enough, I promise...for you, for you...oh, I want it so much, I can do it and make you happy, show you - how happy I make…”

He tails off, and all three of their breaths are coming ragged now, Kuroo’s distorted over the voice call and Keiji’s hot on Koutarou’s back, struggling to stop themself from taking him then and there. Their nails dig into Koutrou’s hip, making him whine, and before they can respond Kuroo’s voice cuts through the silence.

“...Please, Akaashi.”

The words hang in the air, tinny through the speakers, and Keiji curses them, wishing that Kuroo were here right now. They want him to say it again, against their ear and clear as day, a phrase they can save for their fantasies.

They press their lips to Koutarou’s shoulder, taking a moment to gather their thoughts. Koutaou is still pleading under his breath, like he’s unable to stop until Keiji gives in.

“He can keep me warm like that,” Keiji concedes, and Koutarou bursts into grateful tears. “You’re not to ride me, though. You don’t get to fuck yourself on me until I say so.”

Koutarou nods in front of the camera, still sobbing, and Kuroo sighs with relief and anticipation, thumbing the head of his cock.

It takes a little maneuvering to get Koutarou to stand up, and Keiji has to support his back with one hand as he straddles their lap, legs shaking and unable to stay on his feet by himself. Their other hand holds their cock upright, and they shift their grip to his hips, guiding him as he lowers himself with a slow, desperate moan onto them.

The sensation is overwhelming. Koutarou is more than prepared for them - this isn’t the first time they’ve been inside him today, and he’s dripping with arousal from everything they’ve done in the last hour. Still, this tight heat around their cock is so much  _ more _ than the loose warmth of his mouth, and it means more, too. Every time Keiji gets to fuck Koutarou, they’re reminded that he trusts them completely, and he’s willing to give them everything he has. Keiji’s grip on Koutarou’s hip falters, fingers twitching involuntarily, and they inhale, counting their breaths to stop themself from coming. Koutarou shudders, catching sight of Kuroo on the screen and hurriedly wiping his cheeks, embarrassed and wanting to perform.

Kuroo has no need for such restraint, and he’s already shuddering in his seat, pumping his cock and rolling his balls with his other hand. He looks sultry; filthy, and Keiji loves it. Koutarou does, too; in the corner of the screen they see his eyes squint open and roll back.

“Oh, Kuroo...Akaashi-san, look, look at him, he’s so good and pretty and I’m helping, isn’t it - _so_ _hot_ \- I need…” Koutarou tails off with a sigh, and Keiji feels his hand moving towards his clit before they see it on the screen. They slap his arm as he touches his clit, the contact making an audible crack that makes Kuroo’s hand jerk around his cock.

“I didn’t give you permission to do that.” Despite the arousal in their voice, they’re still firm, and Koutarou hangs his head in shame, speaking tearfully.

“I’m sorry - oh, Akaashi-san, I’m so sorry...I didn’t mean to, I just - he’s so  _ sexy _ , Akaashi-san, don’t you agree?”

“I do,” they say, “but that’s no excuse.”

“I want him here, Akaashi-san… if I’m really good will you bring him here…? It would be so good, just like we planned, and I want him to fuck me, want you to fuck me, Kuroo, after Akaashi-san has used me and then you can eat me out, eat me and you and both of you, like Akaashi-san wants, and afterwards we’ll hold each other and tell -”

Keiji’s fingers force their way into Koutarou’s mouth before he can continue spilling the secrets of either of their more sentimental fantasies, and his words are cut short when he goes cross-eyed, sucking on them lewdly. On the laptop, Keiji sees them both, their fingers pushing on Koutarou’s outstretched tongue as he moans and gags for the camera.

With that, Kuroo leans backwards in his chair, coming with a startled, grunting groan. Keiji’s eyes flick back to the screen, where they can see Kuroo’s orgasm spilling over his hand. They sink their teeth into Koutarou’s shoulder, reacting on instinct, and Koutarou cries out in grateful pain.

“Your turn,” Kuroo manages, out of breath, lifting his eyes slowly back to his laptop screen, “God,  _ fuck _ , show me what it’s like…”

Keiji leans back, and Koutarou knows that means he has permission, holding onto the desk and bouncing on their dick. He only gets to move twice, lifting himself up and pushing down hard onto their lap with a sob before they come, spilling inside him with a wet gasp. Their ears pop, twitching beneath Koutarou, and when they’re able to process sound again they hear him babbling through his tears.

“Oh- fuck,  _ thank you _ , Akaashi-san, that’s my favourite - my most favourite - ah - hah - oh, I love you, want you in me forever -” his pitch rises, bouncing and rolling his hips through his own orgasm, drawing it out the way he knows Keiji likes it and holding nothing back, putting on enough of a show that Kuroo is able to bring himself to orgasm again, groan low and stuttering, unlike anything Keiji’s heard from Koutarou.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you…” Koutarou repeats, voice fading and catching in his throat, head hanging as his chest heaves and Keiji goes soft inside him. They’re staring at the ceiling, gathering their own breath and thoughts before they slip out of Koutarou and move him around, sharing the chair space with him so that they can look at Kuroo properly.

When Kuroo looks up, he’s deliberately avoiding the camera, face flushed bright red. His lips are bitten and damp with spittle, and he looks gorgeous, but Keiji suspects that now would be a bad time to tell him. Koutarou has quietened, tucking himself back into Keiji and looking to them for guidance, and Keiji knows that it’s up to them to handle this properly; it would be too much for Koutarou in subspace.

“So…” Kuroo says before Keiji can speak, and laughs, high-pitched. “That was a thing. I didn’t realise you guys got so intense, huh.”

“You never asked,” Keiji responds drily, and Kuroo laughs again, the sound catching in his throat and making him cough. He pushes his fringe back, then seems to change his mind and pull it down. His awkwardness is cute, Keiji thinks, watching him fondly.

“That’s true, I guess,” he says. He looks at the camera now, gaze flickering over Koutarou in Keiji’s lap, and Keiji’s own, purposefully reassuring gaze. He smiles - or he almost does, and then he bites his lip. “I’m gonna go now. I guess - we’ll talk about this later?”

“Alright,” Keiji says, and then Kuroo is gone, slamming the lid of his laptop down without closing the program, leaving a few seconds of blackness and silence before Skype hangs up automatically.

Koutarou sniffs, and Keiji presses their nose against his cheekbone, holding him tightly.

“He’s gone,” he says, sadly. Keiji rubs his back soothingly.

“Yes, but I’m still here,” they tell him. It’s time to wind him down, now, to help him round himself before he falls asleep, and take care of him. In truth, that’s both of their favourite parts, and they’re sure that Kuroo will feel the same when he experiences the hazy high of aftercare - both giving and receiving. “And he’ll be back.”

“Are you sure?” Koutarou says, and Keiji considers their answer. Whatever they say now, Koutarou will believe absolutely, and it’s dangerous to give him false hope. They think of Kuroo’s expression as he moved to close his laptop: the soft quirk of his lips, the redness on his cheeks and throat, and the reflection of the laptop screen against dark pupils.

“I’m sure,” they say, with absolute confidence. They’ve taken a step today, and it can only lead somewhere good.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://deciduice.tumblr.com) | [twitter](http://twitter.com/deciduice)
> 
> quick disclaimer regarding trans-femme HRT: in my research on how estrogen and anti-androgens affect sex drive and anatomy, i found that the experience was extremely different depending on the individual. as such, i chose to use one person's account so that i could verify that the effects described were possible in combination, and avoid piecing together different accounts in a manner that might seem fetishising. please don't take this account as a reliable source of the effects hrt can have on your sex life; trust a person's personal experience over fanfiction any day!


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